Frozen Waves

Rotten waves stand still: frozen in their last attempt for a way through.

Running one after another

Drawn to unforeseen destinations,

were turned up into ice.

The cold Master of their disgrace shouting: my body at its command.

Nothing of its power can be captured by my eyes.

Nothing moves: the Master reigns dissolved around.

No witness to its strength; its pitiful anger displayed.

Immovable ruins: the water is now silence.

The wind hits unseen.

The bench faces me before the immensity.

Almost unsure, it turned its back to the iced-up sea, indifferent to its efforts while dying to eternity.
It is now the last resort before this ultimate fall.

Once here the extreme war:

Frozen ruins engaged against the same wind I am fighting.

The Master shouts: His signature will not be on my picture:

The masterpiece anonymous forever.

The bench faces me; it retains no memory.

Its cold welcoming attitude ignored, as was the extreme war, time ago, the night It transformed the sea into ice.

I leave.

The wind cries over the silent immovable battlefield.

The Presence I felt, the presence It cried disappeared now, 

neglected and abandoned as a result of Its strength.